


The Christmas Gift

by Silverilly



Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Holiday, Seasonal, caveline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 12:29:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2850869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverilly/pseuds/Silverilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To keep his workaholic assistant from going into work on Christmas, Cave Johnson invites Caroline to his place for Christmas festivities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Christmas Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silverstreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverstreams/gifts).



> This was one of two pieces I wrote for Tumblr's Portal Secret Santa this year. Silverstreams asked for some fluffy Caveline, so I did my best to deliver.

The miniscule text blurred before her, dizzying and consuming. She’d skipped her last break; she hadn’t needed it anyway. The work was hard, but she loved it. She loved being a part of Aperture, the world’s greatest research facility, the company that would change it all. Caroline was ready to give her life for this work, and it took a lot to tear her away from it.

“Caroline.” Cave Johnson’s voice was one of the few things that could bring her back to reality.

“Yes, sir?”

“I was just checking the schedule—what’s this about you working on the 25th? I didn’t approve that.”

Caroline looked up in surprise. “Is that a problem, sir?”

“Of course it is. I can’t have my best girl here on Christmas.”

She frowned. “Mr. Johnson, I know for a fact that you fired Collins for refusing to work on Christmas Day.”

Cave rolled his eyes. “That’s  _Collins_. I was looking for a chance to fire him anyway. _You’re_ more important than that asshole ever was, which means you’ve earned yourself a vacation. Besides, someone’s gotta force you to stop acting like such a workaholic.”

She shook her head. “I’m not a workaholic, sir.”

“Yes, you are. You’re working right now. Put down the pen, kiddo.”

With an air of extreme pain, she followed his direction. After all, he  _was_ the boss. “I still don’t see any reason for me to stay home on Christmas when there’s so much to be done here.”

“Come on, Caroline. Last I heard, people like to spend time with their families on Christmas. Not me, mind—can’t be bothered to deal with ‘em—but I’m sure a girl like you’s gonna want to see her parents and all that.”

Her hand twitched. Suddenly, it felt very empty. “I’ll be fine, sir.”

He was quiet for a moment—a rare phenomenon for Cave Johnson. Then: “You can come to my place.”

Caroline’s head jerked up in surprise. She hadn’t even realize she’d dropped her gaze, but now she was staring incredulously at him. “Sir?”

“Just, uh, if you’ve got nowhere else to be. Or something. You can come to my place. Just  _don’t come to work_.”

Caroline flushed.  _Christmas with Mr. Johnson_ …well, it was better than sitting alone in her little apartment, trying to avoid thinking about the holidays. She didn’t want to admit that she didn’t  _have_ a family. She wasn’t ready to face that right now.

 “Caroline?”

She sighed, then nodded. After all, it wasn’t as if she didn’t enjoy spending time with her boss. “All right, Mr. Johnson. I’ll…I’ll go.”

He grinned. “Atta girl.”

* * *

 _This was a terrible idea. I could be doing paperwork right now_.

Caroline wasn’t sure why, but she was incredibly nervous. She’d pulled up to Cave’s house a full minute ago, but she felt entirely incapable of leaving her car. It was just  _Mr. Johnson_. There was no reason for her heart to be pounding like this, for her entire body to feel like it was broiling. It was just Christmas.

Still, when the front door opened, she nearly burst into tears. 

Sauntering down to greet her— _He’s not even wearing a coat_ , Caroline thought disapprovingly—Cave cheerily opened her door. “You all right, kiddo? You’ve been sitting here for a while—I saw you through the window.”

Caroline swallowed hard. “I’m…fine, sir. Just a little tired from the drive.”

“Then we’d better get you outta that car!” He offered her his hand, which she shakily took. When she was standing at last, he pulled her into a hug. “Merry Christmas, Caroline.”

She froze, shocked by the sudden embrace. “I…Merry Christmas, sir.”

“Cold out here. Let’s get you inside.”

Cave’s house was modest and surprisingly clean, the house of someone who spent most of his time away from it. At least it was a house, Caroline thought, and not just an apartment like hers. There was nothing remarkable about Cave’s beige-coloured walls and squashy brown sofa, but it was warm.

“Sit down for a while, all right? Food’ll be ready in a bit, but I’ve got something for you first.”

Caroline cast a wary look on her surroundings. As comfortable as the place seemed to be, she couldn’t help but feel out of place. She had no idea how to act on Christmas, and he seemed like an expert. She didn’t consider that he, too, would have been alone if not for her.

“What will we be…eating?” she asked, hoping that this was an appropriate question to ask on Christmas.  _Should I have brought dessert?_

Cave flopped onto the couch beside her, a small package in his hand. “Just, uh, pork and beans,” he admitted. “I’m not much of a chef.”

She hid a smile. True, she didn’t know much about Christmas, but she was pretty sure pork and beans—out of a can, no doubt—didn’t exactly follow tradition. Of course, she wasn’t about to complain. It might not have been the most palatable idea in the world, but it was sweet. “That sounds wonderful, sir.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, giving her a sheepish grin. “No, it doesn’t, but at least it’s food. Plus, I don’t know about you, but I’ve got something very pretty to look at while I eat.”

“ _Mr. Johnson!_ ” She looked away, beaming now. He only laughed.

“Come on. Gotta wait for that to…heat up, so you may as well open this.” He held out the package. It was wrapped beautifully in gold paper, the tape used so precisely it might have been wrapped by Caroline herself. Somehow, she had a feeling Cave hadn’t done that particular job. She wondered who had.

“You first, sir.” She’d brought her own gift, immaculately wrapped (by herself, of course) in shimmering red and green. She was relieved he’d gotten her something, not because she actually wanted a gift but because it helped her avoid any sort of gift-giving awkwardness. Christmas was so difficult.

“Caroline, you didn’t have to…I’m just glad you’re, uh, here. You didn’t have to get me anything!”

She saw the light in his eyes and mentally disagreed. She’d  _had_ to make him happy. It was a gift for herself as much as it was for him. “It was nothing, sir.”

He tore apart the paper, uncovering the box that held a simple, black tie. She watched him carefully, trying to ignore the anxiety that twisted in her gut. Should she have gotten something grander? Something more exciting? Was she just setting him up for disappointment?

“It’s great!” He beamed at her, thumb lightly stroking the tie. “I love it—it’ll keep me classy, the way you do.”

Caroline blushed. “You really like it, sir?”

“’Course I do. It’s coming from you, isn’t it?”

“ _Sir!_ ” She looked away, her gaze automatically dropping to the package in his hand. He pushed it toward her.

“Go on. It’s your turn.” He was visibly vibrating with excitement.  _How adorable._

Caroline was slow to unwrap the gift, releasing the tape carefully to avoid tearing the material underneath. Her present, too, was in a box, a box that she lifted away to reveal a bright splash of red against white. Her fingers found a delicate material—silk, perhaps—and she gently pulled the kerchief into her hand. The design was surprisingly simple, considering it was a gift from Cave Johnson. She’d half expected something outlandish, but this…this suited her. “Oh, Mr. Johnson, it’s beautiful. Thank you, sir.”

"Well, it’s not much, but it made me think of you. Come on, let’s see how it looks on you. It’d be a great scarf.” He took the cloth from her, leaning in to lift her hair away from her neck. Goosebumps dotted her back as his skin grazed hers. Slowly, and with far more care than Caroline would have thought him capable, Cave tied the kerchief around Caroline’s neck. “There. Beautiful.”

Of course, Caroline couldn’t see how she looked without a mirror, but she knew her outfit must have clashed horribly with the scarf—yet it was difficult to focus on that when her skin was still warm from where he’d touched her. He was close. He was  _very_ close. If she only leaned in a bit, well…she’d be in trouble.

“What are you blushing about, kiddo?”

Caroline felt her face redden even further. She hadn’t realized her thoughts had become so apparent in her body. “Nothing, sir. I just…” She tried for a joke. “I’m surprised you don’t have mistletoe strung everywhere, sir.”

He laughed, the sound big and booming and comforting. Still, he was so…close. “I don’t need any of that stuff, Caroline.”

She shivered slightly, a tiny pit of disappointment weighing down her stomach. For a moment, she’d thought he’d wanted to kiss her. “Of course not, sir.”

His lips found hers with no difficulty.

Surprised, Caroline melted into the kiss, resting a hand delicately on Cave’s shoulder. His motions were wet, sloppy, and unrefined…but he was passionate. The coarseness of his lifestyle translated into his body, his hands grabbing her closer, keeping her near. Caroline had never been kissed before, but she knew this wasn’t the most technically perfect kiss—and she didn’t care. He was Cave Johnson and he wanted her and she wanted him, too.

It was a lovely Christmas gift.

After a while, their passion subsided enough for her to pull back, breathing heavily. Cave was smiling at her, and with him looking at her like that, it was nearly impossible to remember just what they’d been talking about. She blinked dazedly.“Sir, there’s still no mistletoe. You didn’t have to do that.”

“You’ve got that one right. But see…” He brushed a thumb against her cheek, his smile warm and soft. “I don’t need an excuse to want to kiss you.”

 _Oh_. “Well, then, sir, does that mean I can do it again?”

“Of course—after the pork and beans.”


End file.
